


Ping-Pong

by TangyPeach



Category: Political RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:42:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29936367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TangyPeach/pseuds/TangyPeach
Summary: Bashar gives another attempt to reconsolidate his relationship with Recep. They then decide to play paddle ball.Based somewhere in-between the era of Bashar and Recep's brief cordial ties (in-before they starting hating each other's guts).I had another fic of them, but mayhaps it's a bit too... over-the-top. I'll decide when to post it ;)
Relationships: Bashar Al Assad/Recep Tayyip Erdoğan
Kudos: 1





	Ping-Pong

⠀

⠀

⠀

⠀

⠀

Recep crossed him arms-- a grim expression on his face.  
⠀

The Syrian wasn’t quite sure what set him off more: the fact Bashar actually accepted his invite to come over, or the fact they both wore nearly the exact, same thing. ⠀ 

“C’mon... If I had known we were wearing the same thing today, I wouldn’t have.” Bashar sighed as he sat next to him on the couch, trying to adhere to the awkward space he and himself had between them. ⠀ 

Recep gave him a feigned, passive-aggressive smile: “You’re always stealing my style, anyhow.” ⠀

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? Can’t I make it worth your while?” Bashar inquired, and Recep tutted:⠀

“If you want. But take note, you and I are still nothing more than ‘friends’.” ⠀

Bashar was rather heart broken by the bluntness and disregard to their little ‘relationship’, despite the fact they messed around in Recep’s office, made-out for an hour, and was abruptly told to leave. Well, actually, this response didn’t surprise Bashar at all.⠀

Recep had been giving Bashar the cold shoulder the whole time, simply giving him petty excuses to start arguments. Recep was a tough man to please, and Bashar fully accepted that while going into their tryst-- where he’d say one thing and mean the complete other.⠀

“If you want, we can play a game of pong if that’ll help ease you...” Bashar suggested, his blue eye’s perking at his own suggestion.⠀

“You’ll lose for sure.” Recep chuckled at the idea, which was a yes for Bashar.⠀

⠀

⠀

⠀

⠀

Both of them grabbed a paddle, and Recep held the ball.⠀

“Let’s make a bet.” Recep chuckled. “If you lose, you’ll have to do something of my choosing...” ⠀

Bashar looked puzzle at the suggestion, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.⠀

“But if you win.. Then you’ll get to choose, Bashar”⠀

“Deal. I suppose...” Bashar crossed his arms, not really liking the betting associated with this. Not like there was going to be money involved, that is.⠀

Although Bashar was very much active in his younger military days, he hardly had time to do any exercise besides the occasional brisk run. He’d have thought Recep had it made as well, considering he was a footballer in prime, but it was clear Recep hadn’t played sports regularly in a long, long time. ⠀

“Alright, let’s begin.” Said Recep throwing the pong ball in the air, whacking it swiftly.⠀

Bashar moved back a little, unprepared-- but hitting it it back, shy of hitting the net.⠀

Recep grinned confidently, as if he knew he was already going to win-- hitting it again with such power that Bashar could only yelp as he almost missed his second retaliation with the ball.⠀

If it weren’t for how worked up he was, he’d tell Recep to calm the hell down.⠀

Erdogan whacked it again, and the ball hit Bashar on his chest-- and he was not pleased. Especially considering Recep looked like he was on the urge of laughing.⠀

“Best 2 out of 3?” Recep asked, not even apologizing.⠀

“Er... fine.” Bashar said. “But that last one should be disqualified.”⠀

“Who said I did that on purpose?” Recep had that rueful smile on his face again-- his dry sense of humour really shining through.⠀

Bashar simply frowned. “You really have to stop making this a competition.”⠀

“Who says it is? I’m fighting for my dignity over here.” Recep smirked, throwing the ball in the air again (flaunting his ‘skill’), and whacking it again.⠀

Bashar hit it back, shy off his shoulder-- he didn’t realize until now that he really didn’t like this game at all.⠀

Recep hit it back, only for Bashar to hit it back-- and Recep lost the ‘second’ round. His confidence took a nose-dive as he cursed to himself in Turkish.⠀

“One more game,” Bashar said, now the one almost laughing.⠀

⠀

⠀

⠀

⠀

“Shut up.” Recep said, throwing it in the air again-- losing his cool.⠀

Now Bashar stood back, hitting it again-- a bit harder this time-- actually trying this time around.⠀

Recep hit it back, and Bashar hit it-- and Recep focused more on the hit rather than the position, causing the ball to hit the net pathetically. Drat.⠀

“Well, I guess this means I win.” Said Bashar, smiling jollily to himself.⠀

Recep looked gloomy again, but he swiftly makes his way over to Bashar-- and places a hand on his shoulder-- congratulating him. “You’ve won. Good for you.”⠀

This was perhaps the first time they’ve gotten close to each other all day-- and Bashar felt intimidated-- albeit, his chest felt light. Bashar had the most nervous expression on his face as he smiled at Recep, staring down at his jutted lip-- his poker-face eyes. He could sense a bit of suppression.⠀

Sooner or later, Recep kissed Bashar softly-- his hand jostling the blue cloth on the Syrian’s shoulder as Bashar eased into the kiss-- humming in acknowledgement.⠀

“I’m at your disposal, doctor.” Recep mentioned the bet, seeming to finally pull himself out of that ‘loser’ mentality.⠀

“Hmmm... Well..” Bashar said curiously, raising his hand to caress to top of Recep’s forehead-- playing with his hair. “There was something I had in mind.”⠀

⠀

⠀

⠀

⠀

\--------- ⠀

⠀

⠀

⠀

They got back onto the couch, and Bashar got a bit handsy with him. His long, slender hands running down Recep’s chest-- and perhaps Bashar got a bit excited with this exchange of power. He then got to his belly-- caressing it in circles, and Recep feigned self-consciousness: “You like that don’t you,” Recep smirked. “Rubbing it in that I’m fat.”⠀

“I think it’s cute.” Bashar murmured, now lowering his hands to his thighs-- squeezing them-- noting how much ‘meatier’ he was than himself.⠀

“...Are you going to tell me what you had in mind, yet?” Recep hummed at his touch... Bashar was very patient with him-- perhaps something he needed to learn himself.⠀

“It’s a surprise.” Bashar replied softly, now kissing Recep’s neck, and the Turk leaned back. Recep really needed to learn to shut up sometimes.⠀

Bashar’s hands went to Recep’s crotch-- tugging the drawstring of his sweatpants. He could already tell the older man had a semi, and although Bashar was tempted to give it attention, he didn’t want to just yet. ⠀

He yanked Recep’s pants down, and Recep lifted himself to make it easier for him to undress him-- Bashar pulling off his own pants as well-- and without saying anything he guided Recep to lie on the couch, now hovering on top of him. ⠀

He positioned himself until his crotch lay against his.⠀

Recep got the idea, and he lifted his sweater up-- and Bashar did like-wise. ⠀

Although Bashar had long, flimsy hands, they were big enough to grab both their members-- and Recep smiled bashfully-- his face heating up as he looked up at Bashar’s gauging eyes. It was new for him-- letting Bashar take control. Perhaps he should have let him do it more often...⠀

⠀

⠀

⠀

⠀

Bashar’s thumb rubbed the tip of his and Recep’s cock’s-- coating his finger with what little precum they had-- the horny Turk leaking more than Bashar himself. ⠀

“Perhaps you’re the one whose a little excited--.” Bashar murmured, and Recep clicked his teeth-- deciding to bite his tongue as he let Bashar continue. The Syrian slowly began stroking the both of them-- feeling Recep tense up instinctively. ⠀

It was one thing to masturbate one’s self-- but to feel it from someone else felt better, at least to the Turk. Recep could smell the ocean off of Bashar-- admiring their proximity, their closeness-- feeling Bashar exert himself with his hot breath.⠀

“Don’t overwork yourself, now--” Recep noted, groaning as Bashar rolled his hand around the head of his cock-- giving him more attention than his own-- making sure to cover all his skin.⠀

Recep’s eyes glazed the moment Bashar worked both their inches even faster-- his cock grinding against Bashar’s as the Syrian steadied the pace-- moaning himself.⠀

“G-goodness, Bashar...” Recep stuttered, closing his eyes tight as Bashar now put his head in the crook of Recep’s neck-- still rubbing his grip between him. ⠀

The friction grew a bit dry, and Bashar desperately licked his other hand-- now replacing it onto their cocks to give his other hand a break. Bashar was good at this, Recep thought numbly as he patted the Syrian’s nape. ⠀

He tugged onto Bashar’s coarse hair as he huffed, his mind wandering-- mulling about all the times they’ve shared-- all the times he’s given him tough love-- trying to think of something to say. ⠀

Meanwhile, Bashar was very determined to have them orgasm at the same time-- and so he squeezed them tighter-- their cocks flanking in his grip as their precum began to collect in his hand and act as lube. Recep swore loudly, his body jerked as his mouth sputtered-- not daring to care that Bashar’s slender neck felt cold against his. ⠀

⠀

⠀

⠀

The Turk cried Bashar’s name in a hoarse, voice-cracking bellow-- and Bashar cried Recep’s softly as he felt his high too, in unison. Both ejaculated onto Recep’s belly-- their loads mixing with each other in an erotic display, and Bashar collapsed onto his superior wetly, now clinging onto Recep despite the mess-- not seeming to give a damn. ⠀

“I don’t mean every insult I give you, Bashar...” Recep murmured, clearly exhausted. “You’ve always been a good man.”⠀

Bashar needed a few moments to recuperate, but simply replied: “... And I always knew you were a good man under all those layers...”⠀

Recep reacted by lightly smacking Bashar against the cheek, toying with him.⠀

Perhaps Bashar would regret saying that some day... But right now, none of that mattered.⠀

⠀

⠀

With that, they kissed.⠀

⠀

⠀

⠀


End file.
